


Heroes

by OctoSlender



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 08:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8095201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctoSlender/pseuds/OctoSlender
Summary: Dr. Angela "Mercy" Ziegler is called to Gibraltar in response to a distress call. In treating her patient, agent Lena "Tracer" Oxton, she uncovers more of the ongoing conflict between Overwatch and Blackwatch.





	

The hanger was bustling with activity. Ground members were working double against the storm, directing the jet that was about to land. It was a grey, blustery afternoon that went against the warm summers Gibraltar promised.

“Clear the hangar!” A ground member instructed, his uniform bearing the proud badge of the Overwatch.

Several more members formed a line, assisting the jet’s descent onto the watch-point’s landing pad.

Slowly, the cargo ramp of the jet lowered itself. Battered with the soles of iron boots, soldiers escorted Dr. Angela “Mercy” Ziegler from the pad. She sported a cream turtleneck sweater under her open lab coat. In her hand, she carried a peculiar briefcase. 

Covered by an umbrella, a familiar face stepped in and took over the escort.

“Vat is her condition, Commander?” The graceful blonde enquired, there was nothing short of genuine concern written on her face.

“Stable for now. But she needs your help, Mercy.” Commander Morrison briefed, running a hand through his sodden, blonde hair as they entered the base. Dressed in his signature blue uniform, he was tall and looked as though age was starting to catch up with him.

“Jack…” Angela started. “I have a name,” she wryly smiled. 

The commander lowered his head; military habits were difficult to put aside.

Meandering through the corridors, they eventually arrived at the doorstep where Angela’s patient rested.

Jack paused, signalling the doctor to do the same.

“What did they ask you?” Jack piqued.

Angela tilted her head, nonplussed: “I beg your pardon?”

“When you were interrogated by the UN, what did they ask you?” Jack refined his question.

Angela’s brows narrowed.

“Jack, I was called here to treat Ms. Oxton; not to be further interrogated by you of all people.” She remarked bitterly.

He winced and let out a hollow breath.

“You’re right,” Jack grimaced.

He took a moment, hit by a pang of guilt.

“I’m aware things are rocky right now,” Jack said grimly. “Under the wraps, we’re falling apart.”

Angela listened on, bemused.

“I know you’re hurting over what’s been going lately,” he continued. “But, there is a place in the world for Overwatch. For all of us.”

Jack brought himself closer to Angela and said in a grave tone, “I need to know.” 

“Who could blame him?” Angela thought, “everything under his feet is crumbling.”

Angela sighed, knowing full-well what the Commander of Overwatch was trying to pull.

“The UN wanted to know about Blackwatch. They thought I had a hand in it,” she explained, folding her arms.

“I see,” Jack said thoughtfully. He turned around and prepared to leave.

At this point, Angela readied herself to enter the room.

“It’s a big favour to ask…” Jack trailed.

Angela withdrew herself, turning her head to Jack.

“But, there’s more to Tracer’s… Ms. Oxton’s wounds than the one she has right now.” He said, hiding the sunken look that befell upon his face.

Silent, Angela knew what he was referring to. He just placed a giant weight on her shoulders.

“I-”

“There are some things no soldier should ever have to go through,” Jack interjected cryptically. “Thank you, Angela. Everyone here looks up to you as a hero.” He said as he walked off.

Angela let out another deep sigh, backing away from the door.

“But, not everyone here is a soldier…” she retorted under her breath, leaning against the wall. Her eyes were fixed to the door ahead of her. “I’m just a doctor.”

Lifting herself off the wall, she proceeded to open the door. Jack’s parting words still echoed in the back of her mind.

“It’s the price everyone pays…” she thought, looking ahead at her bed-ridden patient-to-be.

Upon meeting her eyes, she saw a forced flash of a simper.

“Mercy!” Lena Oxton called out, codename Tracer. The curl of her lips was not as jovial as Angela recalled. It was the overall look on her face that gave it away.

“Sali, Tracer,” Angela greeted. She offered the most heart-warming smile she could muster as she sauntered over. Picking up the clipboard hanging at the edge of the bed, she glimpsed through the medical records.

She placed it back where it belonged and returned her attention to Lena who was dressed in a hospital gown.

“This must be the hundredth time, Doc.” Lena joked, weakly.

Angela tightened her fist which she hid from Lena’s eyes. 

It was everything about her; the vacant expression on her face, the inexplicable aura of dolour, that elusive state of numbness standing out from the cuts, bruises and lacerations ridden all over her body. It reminded Angela too much of how she was like when she stood before the lifeless bodies of her parents. 

“It’s the price everyone pays in a war.” Angela thought as she began her diagnosis.

 

…

 

“Ow!” The young Briton yelped as the needle and thread stitched the gash on her shoulder. “You know, Angie, I really thought I was a goner at Morocco.”

“Yes, well, heroes never die,” Angela assured. “Also, I rather you stick with Doc.” A shudder ran up her spine: “Angie, ick.”

“Hey, I thought it had a nice ring to it,” Lena protested. Her voice was dampened by apathy. She was protecting herself from feeling.  
As silence ensued between the two; every now and then, Angela would glance into the bedlam hiding behind Lena’s eyes. Each time she did, she found herself reliving more and more pieces of her upbringing. 

“Has Winston dropped by?” Angela asked, distracting herself.

Lena snapped out of her daze. “Huh?”

Angela tapped at the glass of the temporal accelerator. Fitted perfectly on Lena’s chest, the device emitted a dim glow. It was as if it was dying.

“Oh,” Lena started. “Yea, Winston’s popped by a few times. Ove-”

Lena paused. She closed her eyes and attempted to recollect herself.

“O-Overdid the thing,” she stammered. Turning her head away, she saw the peculiar briefcase which rested by her bedside. The one Angela brought in. “What’s that?” She then asked.  
Looking at the briefcase, Angela lifted it by the handle. She propped it beside Lena.

“This,” she started, “this is an auto-injector.”

Lifting the cover of the briefcase, it blocked Lena’s view of the device.

“I’ll spare you the details. But, the nano-machines in it will save more lives than I ever could before,” she explained.

It was then she had a realisation.

Staring down at the injector, she realised its shape was reminiscent to that of a gun. Its top, where the slide would be, housed a vial. The liquid substance in the latter emitted a curiously warming yellow glow.

“Umm… Tracer?” Angela called.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to have to ask you to relax and try to be calm,” Angela instructed carefully.

“No worries, Doc. You fancy a needle’s going to scare me?” Lena challenged plainly.

“It’s not that,” Angela started: “It is procedure I take traumatic stress into consideration when I treat patients from combat.” She explained, choosing her words carefully. “Traumatic stress which you exhibit right now,” she thought further.

“Doc, I’ve seen you probably more than most.” Lena said, uncharacteristically agitated.

“There’s another symptom,” Angela noted.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured sternly. “I-I’m just tired.”

“I want you also to know the device is shaped like a gun. I’m worried as it might t-”

“I said I’ll be fine. Angie.” She hissed, putting the weight of her voice on the last word. “Just get on with it.”

Angela took a deep breath. Putting the briefcase on the floor again, she traced her finger up the cast wrapped around Lena’s fractured leg. Lifting Lena’s gown, Angela inspected her bare thigh.

“This will suffice for insertion,” she thought.

She pulled the auto-injector slowly, pressing its barrel against Lena’s thigh.

Suddenly, she felt a firm hand gripping the injector.

Angela snapped her head towards Lena. There was a warped sense of life through her vacant eyes as her pupils dilated.

Reading her, Angela knew Lena was acting on instincts. In her mind, she was still in Morocco.

“Lena!” Angela called as she struggled with the young agent. She was grateful that her fractured leg immobilised her. But at this rate, Lena was danger to herself and to Angela.

Lena sprung up. In one hand, she wrestled the device. In the other, she had her palm pressed into Angela’s face in an attempt to yank her away. Getting a grip onto the side of her head, Lena started to press the nail of her thumb into Angela’s closed eyelid.

Angela cried in pain as Lena intended to maim her. In a snap decision, she pressed a button on the injector. The vial ejected itself from the device as the doctor immediately withdrew.

The fibre glass made a thud on the floor and the safety cap kept the vial’s contents safe.

Angela covered her eye. The excruciating pain throbbed and shot all to the way through to the back of her brain. She withdrew all the way to the door, sinking onto the floor.

Opening her eyelid, her vision with that one eye was blurred. The tears that formed as a natural response caused it swim. 

Having diagnosed her minor injury, Angela stood back up. Looking at Lena, she had the auto-injector pointed at the doctor.

“Lena,” Angela carefully called. 

No response.

Angela raised her hands, still keeping her eye shut.

“Lena Oxton,”

Again, no response.

“Tracer,” Angela tried once more with her call sign.

Lena’s face flickered.

“Tracer,” Angela called again. “Where are you right now?” She asked, her voice quivering. Part of the reason was because of the pain which now swelled down to an ache. The other part was the fear of what Lena might do next.

Lena started to visibly shake.

“I’m only here to treat your injuries.” Angela persuaded, persisting in her careful choice of words. She slowly approach the bed. “I’m not here for any other reason.”

Lena lowered the device.

“I’m sorry, Doc.” Lena uttered, “I don’t know what happened. I saw the gun and- and I-I don’t know. Something just… this feeling…” her voice trailed. Senselessly, she tried communicating her meaning through gestures. “I’m so sorry.”

Angela sat herself beside Lena once more, running a hand through the agent’s soft hair. While her situation was still grim, there was a glimmer of progress. Even if her first emotion was confusion, she was still starting to feel again.

“I’m not okay am I?” She asked, looking up to the doctor.

…

 

Sitting on a chair by the bedside, Angela held the auto-injector in her hand again.

“Now, Lena. I want you to look away this time.” She instructed, acknowledging the chance of her instincts kicking in again anyway.

Lena nodded weakly. She couldn’t bring herself to argue with the doctor as she turned her head away.

Angela injected the nano-machines into Lena’s thigh. She heard Lena whimper as a reaction to the sting. Meticulously, she observed its contents drain completely from the vial and into Lena’s bloodstream. When there was nothing left, she retracted the device and kept it away.

“There’ll definitely have to be a change in design.” Angela thought to herself.

“I saw you on the tele some time back.” Lena suddenly stated, referring to the UN hearing. “Nasty things they asked you, the lot. I’m sorry to hear about your parents,” she said. 

Angela chuckled, dismissing the grim mood with a gesture. It was a long time ago and she rather not dwell on the memories.

“How’s your eye, Doc?” Lena asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Angela assured. “You’re more important to me right now.”

“What should I do?” Lena asked.

“Hmm?”

“Like you mentioned earlier, traumatic stress.” Lena explained.

Angela thought about her answer. It took her some time as she was genuinely impressed by Lena’s awareness and how honest she was with herself.

“There just may be hope for you yet,” Angela thought. “I can have therapy arranged for you. I don’t want to be a crocodile skin seller, therapy is outside of my expertise.”

Lena nodded attentively: “You mean snake oil peddler, Doc?”

“Ja, dat.” Angela blurted, feeling her cheeks warming up. “But, one thing you can do is talk to someone; especially someone who went through the same traumatic event. I can have Commander Morrison arrange a session with the other agents-”

Lena reached out and grabbed Angela by her arm. She held onto it with a vice grip.

“D-Don’t,” she said. Her face betrayed a growing anxiety. “Can I talk to you instead?” She asked.

Angela nodded understandingly: “Of course you can.” She assured, smiling.

“I don’t know who I can trust anymore, Doc. You can’t let the Commander know,” Lena warned gravely.

“Patient and doctor confidentiality,” Angela promised.

Letting go of Angela’s arm, Lena proceeded to recall her mission in Morocco. She recounted how she and a dozen other Overwatch agents were deployed in Rabat, the capital, on a peacekeeping mission. It was supposed to be one of the many missions they would execute. The chaos sewn by Talon brought the country to its knees, pitting its citizens against each other.

“We were supposed to aid Moroccans caught in the crossfire,” Lena informed. “When we reached Rabat, it was chaos.” She said further. Her eyes were glazed over as images of the burning city flashed across her mind.  
Angela nodded, putting her hand on Lena’s.

“We thought we were dealing with a civil war. But, there were omnics there; hostile omnics.”

“Omnics?” Angela asked, surprised.

“Yea. I can’t say why they were there. But, they were,” Lena reconfirmed. “We secured the square. Saqqajja, that’s the one. I remember helping gather everyone I could to safety.”

Lena paused, hesitant to continue.

“Take your time,” Angela assured. “I am here for you.”

Lena took deep breaths, trying to collect herself.

“I honestly thought we were going to save them.” Her voice quivered and broke in between words. “All those people. Families. Children. I-I thought we brought them to the square-” Lena’s teeth started to chatter as she drew a shaky breath; “I thought we were going to save them…” she murmured once more.

“No…” Angela mumbled. Her heart sank. She firmed her palm on Lena’s now closed fist. The young agent’s whole body now visibly shook as well.

“I don’t know if I’ve gone off, Doc…” Lena said, her voice rose as she shook her head. “But, I saw them. I saw them, Angela!” She cried, desperately trying to convince herself more than the person she was talking to. Lena buried her face in her palms. The memories of what she saw still left her in unimaginable disbelief.

Angela moved closer to Lena. Sitting beside her on the bed, she ushered Lena into an embrace.

The young Briton lowered her arms as her head gently pressed against Angela’s chest. Tears started to roll down her cheek as she wept in silence.

“I thought we were the good guys, Doc.”

Then she started to sob.

“I thought we were heroes.”

Then, at last, she wailed.

“I thought we were heroes,” Lena howled again as her cries filled the room. “Why? Why would they… how could they…” her voice trailed as she broke down.

As Angela shared Lena’s anguish, she let out a deep breath. Even though Lena couldn’t finish recounting her ordeal, the doctor knew how to put the pieces together. Factoring the escalating conflict between Overwatch and Blackwatch, her deduction led her to a horrific conclusion.

“I don’t know whether I’ll ever be able to call those men heroes.” Angela lamented softly, closing her eyes as she firmed her embrace around Lena. “But, I know I’m with one right now.”

Angela remained by Lena’s side. Never once did she tear away from her embrace. As the crash of thunder and the pelting rain outside the base made its home in Lena, a wry curl formed at the side of Angela’s lips. She took solace in knowing that, somehow, this was a storm that could be weathered through.

…

Angela checked the clock overhead from the bed; hours had passed since Lena broke down and it was only now she started to calm. As they approached the later hours of the night, Angela started to feel weariness encroaching upon her. She rubbed her eyes.

“Thank you, Doc.” Lena uttered, pulling herself away from the embrace. “You really are a hero to everyone here,” she admired.

Angela noted her tone as Lena expressed veritable gratitude among other ground-breaking things. She drew a wide smile.

“I do the best I can,” she said humbly. “I’m thankful you didn’t break open the stiches.” She noted, her eyes motioning over to the wound.

“Sorry about that, Doc…” Lena apologised as she followed Angela’s eyes to the gash on her shoulder. Her own eyes widened in wonder. The gash was now virtually gone, leaving only remnants of the stitches. It only occurred to her now that she hasn’t felt any physical pain for a while. Checking the rest of her body, all her other wounds were gone as well.

“Doc.” Lena called, looking up to Angela who now grinned. “This is amazing,” she stated. Touching her cheek, even the bruise that was there before was gone as she felt the smoothness of her own skin.

“The wonders of modern medicine.” Angela shrugged, savouring Lena’s expression.

“Wow…” she exclaimed. Excited, Lena tried to pull her leg out of her cast.

Angela watched on, intrigued: “Did the nano-machines fix her fracture already?”

Lena yelped as she felt a jolt of pain shot up her thigh.

“Are you alright?” Angela sprung, fearing the worst as one vial was all she brought.

“Alright?” Lena parroted, “this is amazing, Mercy!” She parroted again.

Angela tilted her head once more, nonplussed.

“My leg, it aches. But, that’s what’s brilliant bout’ it!” Lena blurted excitedly. “It’s just an ache.”

“I guess fractures take a little longer to heal,” Angela noted shortly before she yawned.

Lena had her eyes fixed on Angela. Noting the somnolence on her face, she gazed on in wonder.

“Yes?” Angela piqued: “You’ve been staring at me for quite a while now.”

“Oh,” Lena glanced away elsewhere. “I just had my head in the clouds, is all.” She explained, falling silent. “How’d you do it, Doc?”

“Do what?”

“How do you stay so strong?” She asked. “I know I’m not the only one shaking my leg restless at what Overwatch’s been up to. But, you don’t seem too bothered at all.”

“Who says I’m not?” Angela wished she could retort. She thought further for a better response. “Why did you join Overwatch?” She asked.

“That’s not fair, Doc. I asked first.” Lena protested, chuckling. “I joined Overwatch because I wanted to save people. I wanted to beat the bad guys. It’s what I’m good at.” She confessed, blushing slightly at how cheesy it sounded. “I can’t say I want to do that anymore.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because of what we’ve been doing. The assassinations, the bombings, Rabat.”

Angela continued to listen.

“I don’t know whether I’m doing the right thing.” Lena stated plainly.

“What happened to those people was outside of your control,” Angela tried to assure. “Do you still want to save people?”

Lena nodded meekly.

“Even if Overwatch disappears?”

“Yeah,” Lena said after considering Angela’s question.

“That should really be the only thing that matters.” Angela consoled, placing a hand on Lena’s shoulder.

Lena nodded again. “I know that,” she muttered under her breath. “Thanks again, Angela,” She said. “You should go get some rest.”

“Are you sure?” Angela asked, still concerned. She checked the clock, dawn was still hours away. “I’ll be going back to Switzerland in the morning; I’m needed there. But, I can stay here for as long as you like.”

“No rest for the wicked,” Lena joked. “I think I’ll be fine. You, on the other hand Doc, have been yawning for the past hour. You deserve some sleep.”

For the first time since she got back, Lena brought herself to show the white of her teeth as she flashed a grin.

Respecting Lena’s decision, Angela gave her a hug and started to make her way out of the room. She stopped at the open door, standing under its frame.

“We’re in a time where the world still needs people like you, Ms. Oxton.” She stated.

“What’d you mean, Doc?” Lena asked.

“Looking at what’s been happening…” Angela trailed, turning to Lena. “I believe the world could always use more heroes,” she smiled. “Good night, Lena.”

Lena waved farewell to Angela. After the doctor left, she rested her head back on the pillow. She later propped her arms above her head as she ponder upon the doctor’s parting words. Words she would carry with her for the rest of her life.

…

Angela dragged herself across the base’s corridors. Drained, she felt fatigue weighing down on her shoulders. She pulled the fabric of her sweater straight. Still damp, it stuck to her chest from time to time.

One step in front of the other, she was headed to the cafeteria for coffee. It was too late for her to sleep. Figuring she would catch up on the plane, she turned her thoughts towards what she said to Lena.

“The world could always use more heroes,” the line echoed at the back of her mind. A tiny voice uttered there as well. One that reminded Angela that she was, after all, a-

“Doctor Ziegler,”

Angela heard a familiar voice call as she found herself blocked by an enormous figure from making the corner. His voice was sonorous and clear.

“Hello, Winston.” Angela greeted warmly, hiding her drowsiness. “Please-don’t-talk-long-please-don’t-talk-long-please-don’t-talk-long.” She silently prayed behind her smile.

From one scientist to the other, Angela respected Winston and was one of the few she could frequently bump heads with when it came to science. But, she hoped tonight was an exemption. 

“I’m surprised you’re still up at this time,” he said, dusting something off his white shelled armour. “Well, I shouldn’t be.” The gorilla realised in an afterthought.

“I can say the same for you,” Angela chuckled.

“Oh,” Winston started. “I was running some tests on Tracer’s temporal accelerator earlier. I’m on my way back to the lab to see the results.”

Angela watched a peculiar flicker of expression on Winston’s face before he regained focus.

“She hasn’t talked to anyone since she came to. Not even the Commander.” He informed. “How is she?” Winston then asked, veritably concerned.

“Physically, she will be fine. There was never any doubt about that.” Angela replied, massaging the bridge of her nose. “I’m going to arrange therapy for her when I return to Switzerland. She’s begun talking but I’m not sure how her traumatic stress will develop.”

“What about long term?”

“That too is uncertain. But, it’s a possibility.” She sighed, nodding. “Some people experience PTSD differently. Some people don’t experience it at all.”

Winston nodded understandingly.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked a familiar question. “You won’t always be able to come down to Gibraltar, Doctor Zeigler.”

Waiting for a response from Angela, she was very visibly spaced out as she thought of a reply.

“Unfortunately, I’m not experienced enough to tell you anything medically professional about this. Not yet, at least,” she admitted. “If Tracer starts to exhibit symptoms, we will make the necessary arrangements and see where we can go from there.”  
Angela raised a finger, having more to say. She hesitated, knowing it was unprofessional and unlike her to offer the piece of advice she wanted to give next.

“If she starts exhibiting symptoms, it will take some time for help to come. More than anything, she will need sup- she will need a friend.” The doctor clarified. “Someone who will thread lightly and listen to her.”  
Angela nodded, her eyes glazed over as she retreated into memory.

“I know it sounds too simple and it may or may not help,” she warned. “But, it’s something I wished I had back then.”

Winston nodded.

“Leave it to me, doctor.” He assured. Extending his arm, he patted her shoulder gently. He moved on, heading back to the lab.

“Also, try not to eat too much peanut butter.” Angela admonished as he was halfway down the hall. “You have some above your lips.”

As she continued her journey to the cafeteria, she heard a familiar voice distantly echoing down the corridor.

“Hiya, big guy!”

Angela swore she heard Lena’s voice. “Going to the lab, he said.” She thought to herself, permitting a small giggle as she dragged herself on.

…

The cafeteria was empty. The only noise to be heard was the soft gear belonging to the second hand of the room’s clock.

Angela sat alone with a mug of coffee. Whispery trails of steam still slithered out of its rim. Reaching into the pocket of her briefcase, she fished out a tiny bottle of whiskey. The one often found served on aeroplanes. She stared at it, wondering whether this was one of those nights she needed it.

It didn’t take long for her to give up the debate. She popped the cap and spiked her coffee. Taking a sip, she felt the alcohol burn the back of her throat.

“Am I the only person who knows you do this when you’re really stressed?” Morrison asked, pulling out the chair in front of Angela.

She jumped, not noticing the commander had walked in.

“It’d be the least scandalous of my secrets compared to what the UN disclosed,” she smirked cynically.

Jack set his mug on the table.

“How is she?” He asked.

“She’ll be fine,” Angela assured.

“That’s good,” Jack remarked. “And how are you?”

“I’ll be arranging therapy for Ms. Oxton,” she informed. “I’m starting to wonder whether I should do the same for myself,” Angela chuckled sardonically. 

Jack nodded, in a show of sympathy he placed a caring palm on Angela’s hand.

“I’ll be fine,” Angela smiled. “Thinking about what I’ve been doing, it’s no wonder I’ve not found time for love,” she joked. 

Angela leaned her head closer to Jack as he took a sip of his drink; “But, I do remember hearing an interesting rumour back then that you were intimately engaged with another man.”

Jack almost spit out his drink at that point.

“What, no!” Jack flat out denied, flustered by the allegation. “That’s ridiculous.”

Angela leaned back, cheekily simpered, and said no more.

“Three… two… one…” she counted in her head.

Jack leaned in, straight-faced.

“With who?”

Angela stared at Jack blankly: “When things were better, you were always seen around one man, Herr Commander.” She thought, hoping somehow her thoughts would telepathically commute to Jack or that he wasn’t as clueless at least.

As Jack’s face lit up like a tomato, she knew her prayers had been answered.

“No. No. Just no. There’s no way…” Jack protested, embarrassed.

Angela snickered, bursting into hearty laughter shortly after. “Oh, all my life I did not expect to see you react like this. I should have taken a photo,” Angela said in between fits of dying laughter. “It’s good he does not bear that much hatred against Reyes,” she thought to herself.

As the excitement died down, Angela indulged in the quiet moment they shared. It uplifted her spirits being able to enjoy the little things. As she drank her coffee, she glanced over to Jack. She noted he was brooding, on the tip of bringing up a grave matter.

“Jack-”

“He was behind it, Angela.” Jack confided, leaning in once more.

“What?”

“Reyes,” he said, “Reyes planted Blackwatch operatives disguised as Overwatch agents on that miss-”

A loud slap echoed throughout the room.

Jack felt his cheek burn as he looked at Angela who now stood. As she withdrew her hand, Jack saw the ire in her eyes.

“You…” Her voice quivered.

She couldn’t bring herself to ask. Remembering what Winston told her earlier, she already knew the answer: Jack had been eavesdropping on herself and Lena the whole time.

“Don’t use me like this.” She cried, her voice breaking. Her body started to shiver as her anger rose. She’s never felt more betrayed.

“Mercy, I-”

“Angela,” she interrupted sharply. Her eyes motioned to the door. “Leave.”

“I-”

“I will not say it again.” She warned, setting her glare onto Jack.

The commander hung his head. Respecting his friend’s wishes, he showed himself out. But before he did, he turned.

“I’m only doing the best I can,” Jack reasoned. “I’m sorry, Angela.”

On that note, he left the room.

Her nerves still frying, Angela sat down. Her breath shook as she tried to calm herself. Struggling, she lifted the mug to her lips. As she did, she couldn’t help but notice Jack’s mug in front her. His coffee was still filled to the brim. The whole experience was surreal.

“I’m only doing the best I can,” Jack’s voice rang in her head.

She set her coffee mug down, the whiskey failing to help her cope. Covering her eyes, her face wrinkled as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I know…”

She murmured between her sobs.

“I know, Jack…”

Angela was lost.

Despite what Jack did, she knew she may have done the same thing if she was in his position. She even rationalised that Jack wanted her to know because he trusted her. Resting her head on the table, Angela continued to weep. There was a minute comfort in that no one was around to witness her crying. She kept her persistence throughout the years making sure no one ever would. As she lamented further, she felt utterly helpless to resolve the rift within Overwatch. Despite saving lives, these conflicts of politics and subterfuge were above her. They were beyond her.

“You’ll always be a hero to everyone here,” Jack’s voice echoed once more.

“I’m not a hero.” Angela denied under a murmur, sobbing further. The voice at the back of her head earlier now rang across her mind: “I’m just a doctor…”   
…

Angela stood languidly at the hanger, waiting for the jet’s ramp to descend. She could barely feel her fingers and the early morning sun stung her eyes. Surrounded by soldiers, she may have even drooled if she wasn’t self-conscious enough.

“Mercy!” A familiar voice called.

Turning around, Angela saw Lena mounted on Winston’s shoulders as he brought Lena closer. She looked fully healed. But, there was still a lingering estrangement hinted on her face.

“Winston insisted I don’t walk too much.” Lena explained, reading Angela’s curious face.

“Ah, I’m glad to see you’re doing well.” Angela remarked.

“Did you get any sleep at all, Doc?” Lena asked, concerned. She noted the doctor’s bloodshot eyes.

Angela smiled wryly.

“That’s what the plane is for, eh?” Lena smirked, motioning into the jet’s interior past Angela.

The doctor nodded weakly.

Lena limped over to the doctor and gave her a parting hug.

“Now, I know a lot of people have said this to you…” she trailed, “but you really are one of the good ones.”

“It doesn’t make it any less of an honour each time,” Angela replied. “Take care of yourself, Lena.” She wished, pulling away from her.

“Good bye, Doc.”

Angela turned around and made her way into the jet.

“Visit Gibraltar when you can, Angie!” Lena yelled, giggling meekly when she saw Angela visibly shudder at the name.  
Sitting herself down on a row of seats, Angela rested her head back against the airplane’s inner wall. She was disappointed she did not get to see Jack before she departed. She closed her eyes, her hearing growing numb to the noise made by the ramp closing. Falling asleep, the doctor finally got her rest.

…

Lena watched as Winston chased after the two Talon operatives who escaped through the museum’s overhead window. As she was about to blink after them, she remembered the two adolescents behind her.

She turned around.

Their eyes glimmered in wonder and hope. Their hero, which the youngest mentioned before the fight began, stood before them.

“What brave lads,” she thought to herself. It reminded her of a moment in her life long ago. A moment when she shared the same admiration. Even after all these years, she still vividly recalls the words that were bequeathed onto her. As she stood before them, these words meant much more to her now than ever. 

“You know…” she trailed.


End file.
